


Defrost

by TheWalkingDino



Series: Rickyl one-shots [4]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes Feels, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, Hypothermia, M/M, Protective Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 15:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10027547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingDino/pseuds/TheWalkingDino
Summary: Rick wakes up to see Daryl is soaking wet, having just come out of the freezing lake. He needs to warm Daryl up before he suffers from hypothermia, and he remembers a survival tip he'd learned long before on how to warm someone up. Get naked and cuddle.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Walking Dead of any of its characters.

It wasn’t exactly what he’d expected to startle him out of his sleep. No, he expected to come face to face with something or someone trying to kill him, not a cranky redneck, cussing about “them bastards.” 

Rick blinked wearily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as his bleary vision cleared, and he could see the view in front of him with clarity, even in the dark. Daryl was pacing around, stomping more like it, whispering swears under his breath. His crossbow was slung over his back, and it was then that Rick realized his clothes were soaked, his hair was dripping wet, and he looked like he’d just come straight out of the lake. What came to Rick’s attention after that was the fact that Daryl’s tent was  _ gone _ . He rolled over lazily to stare at the lake, it’s cold, dark water shimmering, moonlight reflecting off of it perfectly, and floating on the water was Daryl’s tent. It was, of course, situated atop a small raft that Glenn and Maggie had found on a run earlier that day. Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a frustrated sigh. He rolled over again, eyes trailing back to the archer’s shaking form, and he was suddenly aware of the fact that Daryl had swum back to shore, and dammit, that water was damn near icing over. He could get hypothermia. “Daryl.” Rick hissed, sitting upright. 

Daryl looked over his shoulder, brushing the hair out of his face with a shaking hand, “Bet ya Carl had somethin’ ta do with this.” Daryl grunted, taking three long steps toward Rick. “Ya best talk ta yer boy, sheriff, er I’ll do it for ya.” 

Rick brought himself to his feet, closing the small distance between himself and Daryl to grab the man’s arm as he spoke, “I will, Daryl. Need ya ta change clothes first, though. Don’t need ya freezin’ ta death on me.” He then noticed that Daryl’s lips were almost blue from the cold, and a wave of nausea made his stomach do flips at the thought of losing him. 

“Man, ya think I wouldn’t a’ changed already if I had the clothes ta do it? I ain’t got shit, it’s all in ma tent and I ain’t swimming back.” 

“I’ll give you some of my clothes. C’mon, calm down.” Rick tugged at Daryl’s wet sleeve, leading him back to his own tent. 

“Why’s yer sleepin’ bag outside yer tent?” Daryl questioned, slinging his crossbow from his shoulder and placing it on the ground. He stepped over the ex-cop’s sleeping bag and ducked into the tent. He fell silent when he saw Carl was all sprawled in the tent, limbs stretched to take up as much room as possible. “Nevermind.” He chuckled, stepping carefully over one of the boy’s legs and grabbing Rick’s duffel bag. He knew that Rick kept his clothes in that particular bag, it was almost unsettling that he knew the man that well. 

He backed out of the tent and stood up straight again, handing the bag to Rick with shaking hands. When Rick grabbed the bag, his fingers trailed across Daryl’s, and the frigidness of the archer’s skin sent a fearful chill through Rick’s body. He flipped the bag open and rummaged through it, grabbing pants and a shirt as quickly as possible. He dropped the bag by his feet but held the clothes close to his chest as Daryl tried to grab them. “You get those clothes off first. Don’t need you getting the dry clothes wet too.” 

“Whatever,” Daryl grumbled. “Turn around.” He glanced towards the edge of their camp, where Glenn stood watch, but he knew that even if the Korean happened to turn around, he wouldn’t be able to see much of anything at that distance in the dark. As Rick spun around to face away from him, his eyes scanned the camp one more time before his trembling fingers grasped the hem of his shirt and he pulled the drenched top off. He discarded the shirt on the ground beside Rick’s sleeping bag and gasped when the cool breeze hit his wet skin. 

“You alright?” Rick asked quietly, tempted to look over his shoulder to check on the man. 

“F-f-fine.” Daryl managed, his shaking fingers struggling with the button on his jeans. He almost had it, but his thumb slipped, “S-sh-shit.” 

“Daryl?” Rick started to turn around but corrected himself. 

“J-just can’t g-get my d-damn pants u-unbuttoned.” He huffed, eyes trailing after the fog his breath left in the air. 

“I can help,” Rick whispered. “You need to get those damned wet clothes off now.” 

“I can-” 

“Daryl. Please let me help.” Rick pleaded. 

After one last failed attempt, Daryl sighed in defeat, “O-okay.” 

“I’m gonna turn around now,” Rick said, giving Daryl his chance to protest, but he didn’t, and Rick was grateful. He sat the dry clothes on his sleeping bag and gave Daryl one quick look over before he stepped close to him. He grabbed one of the archer’s wrists with one hand and pushed his hand away slowly, replacing it with his own. He did the same thing with the other hand, leaving his cold hands trembling at his sides. He quickly popped the button loose and tugged the zipper down, looking back to Daryl for the nod of approval. He tilted his head down slightly, and that was all Rick needed to see to make sure the man was still okay with it. 

He tugged his jeans down, ignoring the fact that the man had apparently been going commando, and dropped down to sit on his haunches at Daryl’s feet when he realized that he still had his boots on. He unlaced them quickly and wrapped one hand around Daryl’s ankle, pushing his leg up to pull the boot from his foot. He repeated the motion on the other foot and pulled his socks off, throwing them aside. Then he lifted Daryl’s foot off the ground enough to free one leg from his pants, then the other. He sat the jeans in the dirt and saw how Daryl’s legs were shaking, burdened by the effort of holding his own weight up. Rick stood back up, taking one of Daryl’s shaking hands in his, and placed his other hand on the man’s arm. “You need to sit down.” He whispered. “C’mon.” He slipped one arm around the archer’s waist and eased him down onto the open sleeping bag. His shaking movements slowed, and then he stilled and it took everything in Rick to not scream. He dropped to his knees beside Daryl and pressed his fingers against his wrist, sighing in relief when he felt his pulse. Rick looked at the dry clothes lying by his sleeping bag and started to reach for them when he recalled something about survival he’d heard in his childhood. 

“Daryl?” He needed to ask first, make sure it was okay. “Daryl?” He didn’t get a response, and it sent him into a panic again, but after checking the archer’s pulse once more, he was able to calm himself down. Daryl’s eyes followed Rick’s hands as he pulled his own shirt off, flinging it to the ground. “I gotta do this. Y’know?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at Daryl’s face, blue lips trying to move, he was trying to speak, but anything he was saying wasn’t loud enough for Rick to hear, so he continued talking. “Gotta warm you up. Body heat.” He unbuttoned his pants, tugged the zipper down as he frantically kicked his boots off. As he tugged his pants off of his legs, his socks were pulled off with them. He placed his hand on Daryl’s arm as he settled down on the sleeping bag beside him. He reached over him for the top of the sleeping bag and pulled it over them. He tugged the zipper up, encompassing them in the warmth. 

He rolled onto his side, snaking his arm around Daryl’s waist and pulling him close, pressing his chest to the archer’s back. “I’ve got you.” He whispered. “I’ve got you.” Daryl sank into the warmth, his eyes falling shut as Rick whispered calming words into his ear, warm breath and kind words seeping into him. 

He wasn’t sure how long it’d taken, but he was shivering again, shifted away from severe hypothermia and into mild. Severe hypothermia rendered one unable to even shiver but warming back up meant he was able to shiver now, and his body could start trying to warm itself again. He shook in Rick’s arms, and moments later, the man’s voice came out groggy, raspy and tired. He’d fallen asleep. “Daryl?” 

“Y-y-yeah?” Daryl asked quietly. 

“Are you okay?” Rick whispered, one of his legs shifting against Daryl’s. 

“Yeah.” Daryl sighed, rolling over to face Rick. “Y-ya don’t have t-to do this f-for m-m-me.” The color was coming back to his face, and his lips didn’t seem as blue anymore. 

“But I want to.” Rick smiled softly, rubbing Daryl’s arm with a gentle touch. “Have to. Can’t let anything happen to you.” 

Daryl shifted closer to Rick, folding his bottom arm under his head as a pillow. He stared at Rick with a small smile spreading across his lips. “Thanks.” He grunted, closing his eyes. “Fer helpin’ me.” 

“It’s nothing, really,” Rick mumbled, rubbing circles onto Daryl’s back with his hand. He slid his hand up to the archer’s neck, then back down again. He repeated the motion, developing a rhythm that matched Daryl’s breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Up. Down. “I’d do anything for you.” 

“Hmm.” Daryl hummed quietly, absent-mindedly reaching his own, still slightly trembling, hand to Rick’s side. He wrapped his arm around the leader’s waist, and the ex-sheriff let out an involuntary purr of appreciation. “Yer warm.” He whispered. 

“And you’re getting there.” Rick smiled lazily, tired eyes half closed. He ran his hand up Daryl’s back again, ran his fingers through the hair at the nape of the man’s neck, then slid his hand back down again. Soon, Daryl was mimicking the motion against Rick’s back, a slightly different rhythm, though, matching the leader’s slower breathing. The motion of his calloused hand stalled at the bottom of Rick’s back, and his fingers traced over the man’s back dimples. He pressed his thumb against one with a barely there touch, then resumed rubbing his back. 

“R-r-Rick.” It wasn’t being cold that made his voice quake that time, it was Rick’s fingers sliding farther downward, caressing the soft skin of one ass cheek. 

“Sorry.” Rick apologized quickly, bringing his hand up again. “Didn’t mean to.” His hand remained still against the small of Daryl’s back, and the archer stilled his own hand’s movement against Rick’s back. His eyelids drooped, and he stifled a yawn against the side of the pillow under Rick’s head. 

After a few seconds of silence passed, Daryl leaned closer to Rick, his almost ice cold lips brushing against the man’s ear as he spoke, “‘M lips are cold.” 

“Hm?” Rick’s eyelids fluttered open. 

“Said ‘m lips are cold.” Daryl breathed, his tongue darted out to trace the shell of Rick’s ear, then he shifted back a little, biting his lower lip as he looked Rick’s face over under the gentle glow of the moon. His mouth was open, just barely, his eyes wide as he turned to look at Daryl, and he could almost hear everything clicking into place in the leader’s mind. 

“That so?” Rick smiled. His hand moved up to the back of Daryl’s neck, then the back of his head and he pulled the man near. “Need me to warm you up?” 

“Mhm,” Daryl nodded his head quickly, and at that, Rick closed the small distance between their lips. Daryl’s hand gripped the ex-sheriff’s side, his nails likely leaving indentations in the skin on the leader’s hip. His lips parted for the leader’s tongue to slip past, and he gasped at the warmth that intruded him. 

Rick laughed as he pulled away slightly, leaving not even a centimeter of space between himself and Daryl, “Now don’t go jumping in freezing lakes thinking you’ll get this kind of treatment every time.” He shifted back a little more and brought his hand from the back of Daryl’s head to his jaw. He slid his thumb across his bottom lip and sighed. “All you had to do was ask.” 


End file.
